


Unafraid

by beekeepercain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-28
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-03-04 01:04:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2903618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beekeepercain/pseuds/beekeepercain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Prompt:</b> Maybe something cute having to do with the new year tradition of kissing at midnight?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unafraid

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, I'm horrible Sadreel trash.

* * *

 

New Year’s celebrations made the world seem like a battlefield. Sam’s fingers made it better - the first time he’d walked through a fireworks show the event had overwhelmed the sentry. The second time had been a terrifying reminder of the first round, and the third now had started out no better than the ones before. The explosions, those sharp, sudden sounds followed by bright flashes got his instincts overloaded, made him jump to every sound, every movement, that could even remotely indicate a threat; Dean had called him out on it, describing him as a small poodle hiding under the bed, but Gadreel wasn’t hiding. Quite the opposite - he was doing his hardest not to let his blade slip out of his sleeve, as he had no target to drive it into, but his whole being seemed to be tuning for a battle that was nowhere to be found.

But Sam, Sam made it easier. His touch was constant, gentle, reassuring; the warmth of it that never changed held onto his hand like an anchor, keeping him where he was and his mind more at ease even if he had no chance of blocking out the noise. It wasn’t that he was  _scared_ , the matter was more of his nature as a guardian - if it sounded like a war, it was enough to convince him that there was a need for defense.  
Shortly put, this holiday and the celebrations the city was putting up for it weren’t made for him.

The older Winchester had stretched himself all over the motel room’s only couch; he had a thick book in his hands, one that Sam had given him for Christmas and which he’d then refused to drop for a day. He was almost done with it just like Sam was almost done with the alcohol he’d received, if only for the reason it was the bottle which they’d opened to boost the mulled wine they’d finished hours earlier.

"It’s five minutes to midnight, Dean," Sam noted, breaking a silence that had lasted for more than ten minutes, "The finale’s going to be pretty huge."  
That whole time he’d sat with Gadreel on the edge of the third bed, hand in hand, and Dean hadn’t so much as glanced up to notice it. It seemed even now that he was too busy dwelling in his fiction to care about what Sam was saying, Gadreel noticed.

"Mm."

"Dean."

"Mm?"

"It’s  _five minutes to midnight._  Don’t you want to go out to watch?”

"Nah, I’m good."  
He seemed that way, too. Not once during the brief conversation had he shown any interest in stopping what he was doing.  
"I’m at the end," he suddenly continued, "I can’t put this aside for fireworks. I’ve seen a thousand in my lifetime. You go watch if you want, just don’t catch fire."

"Dean, c’mon."

"No, I’m serious. It’s your own fault you gave me this book. Now shut up, I’m reading."

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes, casting a small smile towards Gadreel next.  
"You?"

Gadreel hesitated; going outside seemed like the last thing he wanted for his nerves, but Sam seemed to truly wish for company, so after a while he had no alternative but to nod.  
"Thanks, man."

"Cas said he’s coming later," Dean’s voice cut into the conclusion just as Sam was getting up.

"Later as in tonight later?"

"Yeah," Dean went on, eyes still strictly in his book, "Told him we won’t be sleeping, hope you don’t mind."

"I guess that’s fine," Sam admitted.  
He tugged Gadreel by the sleeve towards the door.  
"Come, we’ll miss it."

The sounds outdoors were much sharper than indoors, but the lowest sound seemed to get drown out by the crisp air. Gadreel breathed out a cloud of white as Sam led him on, closed the door and leaned over the wooden railing of the porch.  
"This is probably the first year we had the chance to stay and watch one of these shows and Dean chose not to," the hunter huffed, but Gadreel couldn’t tell if he was upset or simply curious.  
"Come. They don’t bite."

"I’m not concerned about that."

"I know. You’ll get used to it. It’s actually - I mean, I like fireworks. Come watch. It’s still…"  
For the first time since taking his hand, Sam let go of it now; he dug out his phone to see the time while biting his lip with a concentrated expression.  
"… two minutes to midnight."

Gadreel followed his example cautiously, settling to the railing like Sam had with his elbows leaning over the wood. He watched the dark sky and the thin layer of smoke covering  _everything_  in sight - the white snow glittered underneath them all over the parking lot and the cars, but none was falling now and the brightest stars could be seen with plain eye even through the grey veil.  
There were other people watching as well - some of them leaned to the railing like Sam and Gadreel were doing, but two children downright sat on it, and a few couples paced the parking lot with their faces aimed up at the sky.

"There’s a tradition," Sam started absently, "that at midnight, you kiss. Like in celebration but it’s, I don’t know, it’s a couple thing."

Gadreel turned towards Sam slowly, almost hesitantly, as if worrying that this wasn’t leading where he’d instinctively expected it to lead. Sam could have been talking about those around them, wondering if they would; there was little reason to believe that while it had seemed uncertain for them both for a while now where they really stood with one another, Sam would now decide to define it and bring them across that invisible line from companionship to something more profound on the human standard. Yet when the younger looked at him, there was nervousness in his eyes just the same. The phone in his hand was still lit: it showed 11:59pm.

"Wanna try?"

The hunter’s voice was a thin, strained, nervous, worried,  _concerned_  question; timid, hopeful. All of that at once - it filled Gadreel with something that he couldn’t name, something warm, strong, like the drinks he’d had earlier. Just as timidly he nodded in turn.

11:59pm.

His heart was thundering; Sam looked pale but he smiled and his smile was terrified.

11:59pm.

"Did the time stop?" the younger laughed nervously.

"It did not," Gadreel replied in a lost voice.

Midnight.

They both stared at the phone, frozen, for two seconds without a clue how to break through and initiate it; it seemed to break something, but it was something they both  _wanted_  to break, yet taking the necessary step seemed to take away their breath and the control they had over themselves and something kept them apart until, suddenly, nothing did.  
Sam leaned closer, but Gadreel joined their hands and brought his hand over the younger’s waist; their lips met with equal surprise, touched, locked, parted, locked again. Their breaths met in the middle just the same, exchanged little huffs and nervous gasps that were drawn whenever their lips allowed and their noses remembered, but whether it was the lack of oxygen or the high that flooded their veins at this contact, Gadreel felt dizzy and knew that Sam felt the same. Their chests, hips pressed together as the sound of fireworks exploding grew more intense; as if afraid they were missing the opportunity they’d both promised to be here for, both kept glancing, peering at the sky despite being preoccupied with this final seal over the change in their relationship.  
The kiss ended and renewed, and as the explosions lessened, they grew closer: Sam had both his arms around Gadreel’s waist, palms resting over the small of his back, and Gadreel felt as if his whole being was soaking itself in the presence and comfort and taste and warmth of this exceptional soul beside him. He was smiling, he couldn’t stop, and so was Sam.

When the kiss broke, Sam was breathless and Gadreel couldn’t seem to remember how to pace his breathing in the first place, taking two inhales in place of an exhale and choking on himself.

"Well, that was a show," a third voice stated from their side, making both of them jump.  
Dean eyed them with mild amusement and the air of someone who didn’t know whether to be horrified or pleased, so he ended up being a bit of both; he was leaning his sweater-covered form to the wall and smirking.

"Dean," Sam managed to breathe out, one hand still stuck over Gadreel’s hip although he’d spun around and frozen in that pose.

"Did you really think I’d miss the fireworks? And, uh, whatever that was just now."

The younger blushed heavily, his posture bending and turning submissive, almost as if he was preparing to melt into the railing behind him.  
"Man, I -"

"Don’t explain, it was pretty cute. You know, I, uh, I think I’m just gonna - you know - get out with Cas and leave you kids to it, I mean, there’s - it’s gonna be awkward."

"It’s… yeah," Sam agreed, although he looked like he didn’t want to agree and was about to rewind it back to the last year and undo the whole kiss.  
Then, as if to turn that sentiment around on itself, his hand slipped down and picked up Gadreel’s again. The angel’s fingers bent between his and he held on tight, uncertain what else to do in the situation but stay still and let it unfold around him.  
"Please go."

"I will," Dean laughed and turned around.  
"But now I’m gonna help myself to the last of your Christmas gift, if you’ll let me."

"I… yeah, you do that."

The older waved at them dismissively as he stepped back indoors: the family to the right was also making their way indoors, although the small girl held onto the railing screaming for her life about wanting to watch the fireworks.  
Sam turned an embarrassed look towards Gadreel, at loss for words. The older couldn’t help but smile.  
"At least we do not have to… explain to him," the sentry noted sheepishly.

Sam laughed, nodding.  
"And at least we have the room for ourselves tonight," he continued, "whatever that means. You, uh, wanna marathon some movies?"

"Certainly."


End file.
